


He Who Digs a Pit For Others...

by SunnySidesofBlue



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Hacking, M/M, Rape, Revenge, Sensory Deprivation, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/pseuds/SunnySidesofBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream and Thundercracker return from a mission to discover that Vortex has been abusing the incarcerated Skywarp while they were gone, first demanding sexual favors in exchange for his fuel rations, then full out raping him. They do not intend to let such an outrage go unpunished, and thus the Combaticon interrogator suddenly finds himself at the mercy of two very, very vengeful seekers...</p><p>Sequel to a kinkmeme fill found here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11556.html?thread=12387108#t12387108 (original fic is not mine but referenced with the author's kind permission). You don't necessarily <i>have to</i> read that one first to understand this part, but I highly recommend it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Who Digs a Pit For Others...

**Author's Note:**

> In my native language there's a saying that "he who digs a pit for others often falls into it himself". I'm not sure if there's a commonly known equivalent in English, but it was just too fitting for me not to use it.
> 
> Warnings for Vortex’s generally fragged up view of certain (most) matters and the ruthlessness of a pair of very pissed off seekers.

Vortex was humming contentedly for himself as he briskly walked along the corridor towards the bridge. Starscream and Thundercracker had apparently just reported in, and the interrogator really hoped he would get there in time to see the two seekers get the beating of their lives for returning empty-handed from their mission. If he was lucky the damage they received would even be severe enough to postpone the beating he knew he himself was in for when the two found out about what he’d done to Skywarp. Not that he regretted anything, oh no. The young seeker had been way too delicious for that. Still, glitched and battle-hardened though he was, Vortex did not particularly enjoy being torn to pieces. It would be much better if the overprotective seekers’ first burst of outrage took place while they were incapacitated and unable to fully act it out. Sentimental fools as they were they’d probably even want to visit Skywarp before they released hell upon Vortex. The ‘copter would have been willing to bet pretty much that the members of the command trine, once out of sight, were a lot closer than they pretended to be and not only on a professional plane. 

That line of thought brought forth a most delicious mental image of Skywarp being sandwiched between his two trine mates, an image that was almost immediately transformed into an equally delicious one of the black and purple seeker being pinned against the bars of his special cell, whimpering pitifully as Vortex fragged him into the next week.

The half fantasy, half memory made the ‘copter’s systems purr and his cooling fans hum to life. He slowed his pace, contemplating whether he should skip the seeker-beating on the bridge in favour of another trip to the brig. As far as he knew Skywarp was still there and since he, Vortex, was going to be punished anyway he might as well enjoy himself while he still could. Besides, the scene on the bridge was bound to be recorded by at least half a dozen mechs – everyone loves seeing a superior getting his aft handed to him, after all – and Vortex could easily obtain a copy afterwards. The purple seeker, on the other hand, would be out of reach forever after this, so…

Vortex about-faced and headed for the brig.

***

Starscream was not in a good mood. 

He never liked it when his trine was split up for missions and he was tired and irritated after spending way too much time looking for something he knew was not there to be found. He had told Megatron right from the start that the readings looked suspicious and were in all probability nothing but an Autobot trick, but of course the old fool hadn’t listened. Perhaps that was the reason why Megatron hadn’t personally been there to receive their report, to avoid having to admit being proven wrong. Instead he had delegated the task to Soundwave, who had merely filed the info without comments or criticism.

Now, the only thing the air commander wanted was to refuel, relax and recharge, preferably cuddled up – a term he’d never use aloud, though - with his trine mates.

Speaking of which…

Starscream activated his comm and hailed Skywarp’s frequency to let him know they were back, only to be met with static. Which meant the younger seeker was either in the medbay, undergoing repairs, or in the brig. Neither was especially unusual when it came to Skywarp.

Changing frequencies Starscream instead commed Hook.

“Yeah?” came the rather disrespectful answer from the Construction engineer. Starscream ground his dentae but decided that he didn’t have the energy to lecture the would-be medic.

“This is Starscream. I cannot reach Skywarp over the comm, is he in the medbay?”

“No,” Hook answered. “As far as I know he’s still in the brig and I haven’t-“

“ _Still?!”_ the tricoloured seeker interrupted, stopping dead in his tracks. “What do you mean, still? Are you telling me he’s been locked up since before Thundercracker and I left? That’s over a week!”

“Hey, no need to shout at me,” the Constructicon replied, sounding a bit defensive. “I’m not the one making the decisions, you know.”

It was well known that any seeker quickly got restless if kept on the ground for an extended time, and trapped in a confined area they’d go stir crazy within hours. Starscream himself usually found it nearly unbearable to be kept in the brig for longer than three or four days at most and he didn’t even want to imagine what being locked up and alone for almost nine days might have done to his young trine mate.

Without another word he cut the comm and took off running in the direction of the brig. 

***

Vortex stood outside the barred cell, feeling how his interface equipment heated up at the mere sight of the seeker inside. Skywarp lay completely still, curled up in the middle of the cell floor. Judging by the readings gained by a basic scan he was not yet in stasis, but quite obviously pretty much out of it. His optics were glowing weakly but he made no sign whatsoever that he had even registered his visitor. It was difficult to tell if it was starvation or overwhelming claustrophobia that had taken the heavier toll, and frankly Vortex didn’t care. At this stage the purple seeker would not be able to teleport or put up any form of resistance, and that was all that mattered to the ‘copter at the moment. True, Vortex would certainly not have minded some struggling, but since he was short on time this was undeniably a lot more convenient.

Deactivating the security field and opening the cell door, which easily unlocked for anyone but Skywarp, Vortex entered the seeker’s prison and quickly repressed a small twinge of unease. He was nowhere near as sensitive as a seeker, but being an aerial frame he did have a dislike for small, confined areas. Such a trifle was certainly not going to stop him, though, not with Skywarp lying there looking so utterly delectable. 

“Hello there, pretty wings,” he said to the inert seeker, using one pede to roll him over onto his back. A faint whimper was heard from Skywarp as one of his wings was twisted by the move and caught in a strange angle. Vortex bent down and re-arranged the black and purple mech until he lay flat on his back, all surfaces nicely accessible. Vortex’s spike throbbed at the sight and he let it extend. It really was a shame that he wouldn’t have time to properly explore the attractive frame, and Vortex cursed himself for not returning earlier. There was something about this near complete lack of reaction from the seeker that really revved the interrogator. Normally his victims fought tooth and nail to resist him, and that was what made his systems run hot – to see a mech slowly break at his hand. Once broken they usually held little appeal to him, but somehow Skywarp was different. 

Well, he could analyse feelings later. Right now he had much better things to do.

Casually pushing the supine seeker’s legs apart Vortex then settled down between them, lifted the unresisting limbs at the knees and pressed them forward, half doubling the teleporter over and splaying him obscenely wide. Noting with amusement that the valve cover was half open – probably had been since Vortex’s last visit – the Combaticon pried the panel back completely. There was another faint keen, indicating that on some level Skywarp was aware of what happened and didn’t approve, and Vortex felt an almost painful surge of lust race through him at the sound. In one swift motion leaned forward and slid his throbbing spike into the exposed valve. The complete lack of lubricant made the friction of the entry even more pronounced than the mere unwillingness of his partner and when Skywarp whimpered again, his optics flickering in distress, Vortex thought he was going to overload on the spot. It was all so fragging _perfect_.

Caught up in pleasure as he was, the Combaticon never heard the door to the brig opening, or the rapid approach of pedes along the corridor. He did, however, hear the audio-shattering roar of outrage coming from the cell door behind him and just barely had time to think _‘oh slag’_ before a close range, full power null ray blast hit him square in the back and sent him into stasis.

***

Vortex onlined with a groan and the processor ache of the vorn. For a while he struggled to remember how much he’d been drinking and why, since the only times he felt like this were when he’d been completely plastered the night before. Still, with energon being rationed the way it was there hadn’t been enough high-grade around to make him that overcharged since… since… well, a damn long time ago, anyway.

It wasn’t until he tried to move that he realised something was definitely wrong. Because no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get one single motor relay to respond. Slag, he couldn’t even online his optics!

“So, our _guest_ has finally returned to the land of the functioning,” a cold, unmistakably grating voice said just to the left of him, and in an instant memory returned to the immobilized Combaticon.

Skywarp… brig… Starscream catching him in the middle of…

Crap. He was so dead.

He tried to say something but his vocalizer proved just as uncooperative as the rest of his frame. Something must have gotten through, though, because he did get a reaction.

“You can quit struggling,” the rumbling voice of Thundercracker told him. “We have shut down all except your core systems, audios and sensor net. You’re going nowhere unless we say so.”

Vortex hoped the use of ‘unless’ instead of ‘until’ was a mere mistake in wording. He found himself a little… well, not worried, because a Combaticon simply didn’t do ‘worried’, but… _disturbed_ by the edge in the usually calm and collected seeker’s tone. Starscream lashed out all the time but his blue trine mate was known for rarely even raising his voice and Vortex couldn’t remember ever seeing the mech angry. In fact he and his gestalt mates had sometimes joked about that and wondered what the silent mech did do when he got really pissed.

Vortex was suddenly pretty sure that he didn’t actually want to know.

“This,” Starscream resumed, his voice so perfectly calm that it was obvious he was livid beneath it, “is very simple. You hurt Skywarp, badly, and you are going to spend the rest of your miserable existence regretting that.”

 _Oh for Primus’ sake, quit overreacting. It was just a frag!_ Vortex thought. 

Two seconds later a fist connected very hard with his face and a furious snarl was heard from Thundercracker.

“No, it was NOT ‘just a frag’, you glitched piece of slag! You isolated him, starved him, very nearly drove him completely insane and raped him three times! How DARE you try to trivialise it!”

Five more punches followed in rapid succession before the blue seeker reined himself in. Vortex’s helm spun by the force of the blows, not to mention his face hurt like pit. They must have removed his mask and visor. The thing dominating his attention, however, was the question _how the frag could he know what I was thinking?_

“Because you currently have a transmitter hardwired into your processor, giving us complete access to everything that goes on in that disgusting helm of yours. Everything.”

That one did surprise Vortex, although it explained how they had known about his plotting to get them away from Skywarp. He honestly hadn’t thought Starscream had the knowledge to hack that deep, scientist or not.

“I don’t,” Starscream said, still sounding ominously calm, “but Thundercracker does.”

Okay, surprise number two. Vortex realised he had never stopped to consider exactly to what lengths the two seekers might be willing to go in their zeal to avenge their abused trine mate, or what hidden knowledge they might possess and put in use to exact said vengeance. Definitely something to keep in mind for next time.

“There won’t be a next time,” Thundercracker stated icily. “You are never, ever going to hurt someone like this again.”

_I’d like to see you try and stop me._

The thought had been formed before Vortex could stop himself, or actually consider exactly what he was ‘saying’, and the silence that followed would have unsettled Unicron himself.

“You will,” Starscream finally said, sounding almost amused this time, “but I can promise you, you will _not_ like it.”

Silently cursing himself for baiting the seekers the helicopter tried to clear his mind and think of nothing at all. Unfortunately, his mind wasn’t very cooperative. It kept flashing images of a helpless Skywarp, estimations of the amount and nature of the damage the two vengeful seekers were planning on subjecting him, Vortex, to, and an overall feeling that it would be worth it no matter what. Also, there was the smug certainty that no matter how much they hated him Starscream and Thundercracker couldn’t permanently offline him, since doing so would decommission Bruticus and losing Megatron one of his best gestalts. Mad as they were, the seekers knew better.

“You’re right, we won’t deactivate you,” Starscream commented. “But by the time you get out of here you are going to wish we had.”

Being an interrogator himself Vortex was very familiar with that kind of statement, usually delivered with an intimidating grin and hint of excitement, all designed to set the victim’s fantasy in motion and, possibly, frighten him to compliance. Sure, he wasn’t exactly used to being on the receiving end of such scare tactics, but he had nevertheless considered himself immune to them. However, hearing those words spoken without the merest trace of glee or smugness, just as a statement of fact, did send a faint shiver of unease through Vortex’s frame. By hacking him the two seekers had already gone further than he’d expected them to, and apparently they had just gotten started. Also, his total lack of control was beginning to bother him somewhat. It reminded a bit too much of the endless vorns of semi-conscious suspended animation he had spent in the Decepticon detention centre.

Too late he realised he’d once again given away some information he really shouldn’t have.

“So, the big, bad Combaticon fears sensory deprivation, eh?” Starscream mocked, and this time he definitely sounded smug. “Well, I’m sure we can find further use for that. After all, you had no qualms about subjecting Skywarp to his worst nightmare, so it’s no more than fair that we return the favour. That’ll have to come later, though. First, we have a couple of other things to attend to.”

Vortex felt how something was uploaded into his systems but as soon as he tried to focus on it and identify whatever it was and its purpose it slipped aside and kept doing so every time he tried. It never bothered to hide, just stayed constantly elusive and just out of reach, though still demanding attention. 

It was _very_ annoying.

“This,” Starscream said, “is a packet of coding that will run through your systems and attach itself to certain parts of your core programming. Once integrated it is as good as impossible to locate and even harder to remove. And once activated…”

_What does it do?_

Vortex would never have asked the question aloud but he couldn’t stop it from appearing in his thoughts.

“You’ll find out soon enough. We’ll make a test run as soon as our… _assistant_ shows up.”

Assistant? Well, that sounded ominous, with the way Starscream had stressed the word. And why would they even need one?

“Because neither of us would touch you intimately if our lives depended on it,” Thundercracker replied, sounding disgusted by the mere thought of it. “Fortunately, there are those who aren’t all that scrupulous about who they’re ‘facing, as long as they can have their way. It wasn’t hard to find a volunteer. You’re not the most well-loved of mechs in this army, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

So that was what they were planning? The ‘optic for an optic’ kind of retaliation, a rape for a rape? Vortex relaxed and would have chuckled if he could. Well, let them. No matter how rough they got with him he would enjoy it - he doubted there was even one other mech in the whole Decepticon army that was better equipped to deal with pain play than him, or got off as hard from it. If that was their idea of a punishment they were quite welcome to keep going for as long as they pleased for all he cared.

Had he not been so busy congratulating himself, he might have realised just how ill an omen it was that neither of his captors commented on that.

It was less than a minute before the ‘copter heard a door woosh open and a set of pedes stomping into the room. A large mech by the sound of it, the gait heavier than Onslaught’s. Motormaster, perhaps? Or one of the triple-changers? That would be interesting. 

Vortex systems purred in anticipation, his sadomasochistic subroutines engaging automatically with the first flare of arousal running through him. It had been quite a while since his valve had seen some action, since he generally preferred spiking to being spiked, but that didn’t mean he would turn down the opportunity to be well and truly fragged through the berth when it was offered under such safe circumstances.

The interrogator couldn’t help a silent chuckle. Well, to most bots his current situation would not really qualify as ‘safe’ by any stretch of the word, but to him it certainly did. He knew his partner would not deactivate him and he wouldn’t have to lose face for enjoying himself while not being on top. 

In other words, safe.

And if the mech entering the room was as big as his gait suggested, and his equipment in any way proportionate, then the upcoming session was going to be _sweet_.

Apparently all details had been agreed upon beforehand, for neither of the three other mechs in the room said anything as the newcomer went straight for the berth or whatever it was Vortex was propped up on. The interrogator felt a pair of large hands grope between his legs, pushing them wide apart, and he wished he’d been able to retract his interface cover of his own accord, just to annoy his captors and the would-be rapist. He loved messing with mechs. Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t, and had to settle for waiting until the unknown participant lost patience and ripped the panel off.

And frag if his cooling fans did not run a little faster at the thought.

Then came the expected sound and feeling of tearing metal and the ‘copter gave a mute moan of pain-induced pleasure. Moments later a heavy weight settled on top of him and the Combaticon thought he was going to overload on the spot as something very big nudged the entrance of his valve. Even though his face plates were immobilized, on the inside Vortex was grinning like a madmech, his arousal skyrocketing at the thought of being stretched to – and maybe beyond - the point of tearing. He’d been right – was going to be _great._

The unknown mech began slowly working his spike into the swiftly lubricating valve. Not slowly as in ‘gently’, however, more like ‘this is way too big to fit but I’m gonna do it anyway’ slowly.

Vortex was in seventh heaven. The stretch was painful, though nothing in comparison to what it would be once the mech started thrusting in earnest, but it was _just_ the right kind of pain, warm and buzzing and utterly enticing. It made his entire sensor net tingle, and when the spike finally sank all the way in Vortex gave a silent howl of pure ecstasy.

He was, quite literally, aching for more.

The weight on top of him shifted and concentrated to his hips and shoulders, the unknown mech obviously supporting himself by his arms while preparing to really get started. Vortex’s plating actually buckled under the load and his rotors, trapped against the berth beneath their combined weight, squealed in protest. The sound obviously did something for the big mech, and a forceful rev of engines was heard as he began to move his hips, pumping his oversized member into the disproportioned valve again and again. 

_Oh frag yes, yes!_ Vortex moaned to himself as he felt the pressure against his valve sensors shift, rise and fall, each thrust sending another rush of pain-pleasure through the ‘copter. Seriously, if this was what rape was like he really didn’t see why Skywarp had made such a fuss about it. He should have been thanking him, it was slagging _awesome_ , for Pit’s sake!

Lost in pleasure as he was he didn’t hear the angry growls from the two seekers in the room, nor did he realise just how much deeper he’d just dug his metaphorical grave.

“Okay, I have the threshold values. Triggering level one.”

At first Vortex paid no heed to the words spoken by Starscream, too busy enjoying himself. Then all of a sudden the built up charge of arousal began to fade, no longer climbing towards overload. He was still excited – and how! – but his frame seemed to have forgotten the fact and began working on dispersing the excess charge by other means.

What?

Then Starscream’s words registered and he realised the seekers were doing something to him, something that bypassed his interface coding and…

Coding. Frag.

The dots finally connected and he realised this must be the purpose of the foreign code they had spliced into his own. Somehow it was interfering with the communication between his interface programming and the systems responsible for the corresponding response, leading his mind and his frame to interpret the input in different ways.

Meaning he still got aroused, mentally and emotionally, but not physically.

Now that was a _low_ blow, in his opinion. First they set up such a great frag for him, and then they stopped him from getting off from it. Sure, this was supposed to be a punishment, but still. Low indeed.

Determined to at least make the most of the situation Vortex focused on the feeling of the large spike pounding into him, and the still enjoyable pain-pleasure it caused. It was frustrating to know just how much better it had been when his frame was charged up, but he guessed he’d just have to find someone to frag real good once he got out of here to make up for the loss.

To his utter surprise Thundercracker laughed at that, though he made no comment.

“Level one protocols integrated and responding perfectly,” Starscream then said, he too sounding almost amused. “Triggering level two.”

Vortex mentally growled as suddenly the pleasant tingling he had always associated with pain faded and died. Really, this was overdoing it. The two seekers were apparently determined to make sure he didn’t get to enjoy this ‘face in any way at all. Fraggers.

Like in most mechs with sadomasochistic inclinations, part of Vortex’s coding had been tweaked to interpret certain kinds and amounts of pain as pleasure when his ‘facing subroutines were running. Now, with that special set of codes deactivated, the monotonous pounding of his valve suddenly was not only a lot less appealing, it was in fact getting downright unpleasant.

Okay, he got the message. Harsh ‘facing = not fun = don’t do it again. Fine, understood, now would they please cut it out?

Instead of answering, Starscream merely stated: “Triggering level three.”

In his mind, Vortex screamed.

Pain, the like of which he had never experienced before, tore through him. It seemed to come from everywhere at once and it was cold and cruel, so different from the warm and buzzing pain he was accustomed to.

“Not very nice, is it?” Thundercracker whispered into his audio, though Vortex had some trouble discerning the words at first. “Amazing what a simple reversed setting in your sensory coding can do, isn’t it?”

Slag. Slag, slag, slag, slag, slag!

If the seekers had found a way to reverse his masochist sensory coding – something the interrogator hadn’t even thought possible – it meant that instead of interpreting pain as pleasure, he was now forced to into registering pleasure as pain. Which would then be added on top of the real pain, just to make things even worse.

Vortex could honestly not remember ever feeling anything like this new, cold and hostile kind of pain. It tore along his lines and throbbed in waves perfectly synced with the larger mech’s thrusts, and the flood of sensory input made Vortex’s helm spin. It also hurt on an emotional level, having something he had always enjoyed suddenly turned against him, and in the midst of all the physical agony it left Vortex feeling strangely betrayed.

“Good,” he heard Starscream say. “I know you are incapable of feeling remorse for Skywarp or any other mech you may have abused, but at least now you’ll share their suffering. And Skywarp will heal, in time, and find what he lost again. You never will. You may function as a Cybertronian and a member of this army, but you will never know physical pleasure again.”

Even against the backdrop of pain Vortex felt his spark grow cold as the full impact of the air commander’s words dawned upon him. This… change they had wrought in him was not a temporary thing, not something he could suffer through and then walk away from.

It was permanent.

No. Surely, they must be bluffing, right? They couldn’t be _that_ cruel, there had to be some way he could redeem himself. Or at least purge the corrupted codes.

“No, there isn’t,” Thundercracker calmly informed. “Not unless you want to be wiped and re-written code by code.”

And that wasn’t really an alternative. There would be nothing of _him_ left after a wipe. Same frame and same spark, sure, but memories and personality would be gone forever. He might as well deactivate himself.

Fighting with all his might against the maelstrom of agony that was beginning to drag him down Vortex tried to come up with some kind of argument for his cause that was a bit more convincing than ‘but I like ‘facing,’ but he just couldn’t focus. The raw sensory data from every corner of his frame seemed intent on literally tearing him apart and his self-preservation protocols were roaring at him to defend himself, to get away from the source of the mindboggling pain. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t move a single plate, couldn’t online his optics, couldn’t even scream. The complete lack of any form of outlet was quickly driving him insane and once again that feeling of utter defencelessness from his time in the detention centre reared its ugly helm, adding to the torturous experience.

 _Stop it stop it stop it stop it!_ his mind screamed, already beyond the point of keeping up appearances for the sake of reputation and attitude. 

“I don’t think so,” Starscream said coldly. “You didn’t when he pleaded, so why should we?”

Even with a full grip on his processor Vortex would probably have had a hard time coming up with a valid response to that. As it was, the only reply to the air commander’s rhetorical question was a continued stream of _stop it stop it stop it!_.

When it finally did – though not so much thanks to any pleading of his as the fact that the oversized rapist was apparently sated – Vortex’s entire frame ached and his valve felt like a furnace. He didn’t know how much of it was from real damage and how much was “only” sensory echoes, but he really, _really_ wanted to get out of there and get himself a painkiller or eight. And preferably some high grade to dull his senses. 

“You are not going to go anywhere,” Thundercracker commented. “Now you understand the nature of your offence – now your punishment can begin.”

What, begin? Weren’t they already done?

Both seekers snorted at that.

“Not by a long shot,” Thundercracker said, the distinct lack of smugness in his rumbling voice making the statement sound even more ill-boding than the words themselves.

“We are now going to take the rest of your non-vital systems offline,” Starscream elaborated, “bringing you as close to stasis as can be. You will remain conscious but you will not be able to see or hear, not to move or talk or use your comms. Your chronometer will be disconnected and only life support and a few select parts of your sensory net will be left online. You will not be able to enter recharge or stasis on your own accord, and you will not be refuelled beyond the point you are now. And just as a favour we will allow you to keep track of your energy levels.”

An indicator appeared on Vortex’s otherwise completely empty HUD. 68 percent. The Combaticon made a swift calculation and found that with the majority of his systems shut down that would be enough to keep him in such a state of suspended animation for nearly four Earth months before emergency stasis kicked in. Not good. Not good at all.

“Then we’ll bring you to some remote corner of the ship and dump you there,” Thundercracker continued. “If you are lucky, no-one will have found you by the time your team comes to retrieve you. They have been temporarily relocated for a mission, however, so I wouldn’t expect them to show up anytime soon. And if someone else does find you in the meantime… well, you can only pray that they are more merciful and less perverted than you.”

Vortex knew that the last part was really nothing but a taunt. There were very few ‘Cons who would not in one way or another take advantage of someone defenceless if they got the chance and didn’t have to worry about the consequences. And as soon as one found out, the news was likely to spread like fire in an oil refinery. As Thundercracker had pointed out earlier, Vortex was well aware that he wasn’t the most popular of mechs, although it had never bothered him. His reputation and his gestalt was usually enough to convince others not to openly voice or act upon their antipathy, and on the few occasions it hadn’t been… well, let’s just say he was very good at striking back. Only this time, he wouldn’t be able to.

He didn’t know what would be worse; the horrifying, dark loneliness of prolonged sensory deprivation or the pain that would inevitably follow the moment he was no longer alone.

And he had no way out.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Vortex panicked. He fought with every ounce of processor capacity he still had to regain control of his systems, his frame, _anything_ , but was met with failure everywhere as one system after another was mercilessly shut down or hidden behind impenetrable firewalls. Like a wild animal trapped in a cage he kept throwing himself against the barriers, knowing he wouldn’t get through but unable to stop himself; knowing that the moment he ceased there would be nothing else for him to do but reflecting on the terror that was about to engulf him.

The last thing he knew before his audios went offline was Thundercracker’s vengeful voice.

“Have a nice stay in the Pit.”

Then there was nothing but cold, dark, empty silence.

Vortex screamed.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews would be much appreciated. =)
> 
> The anon who wrote the original fill is currently working on a h/c sequel to this part, and once it's up on LJ I'll post a link to it here.


End file.
